


Some Kind of Disaster

by ncas



Series: I'm a sinner, I'm a saint [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Andrew Minyard Loves Neil Josten, BAMF Neil Josten, Demisexual Neil Josten, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I originally meant this to be around 7k, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neil 'the cat whisperer' Josten, Neil plays hockey I don't make the rules, Oblivious Neil Josten, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Well actually I do so deal with it, also there's a fight scene, but there's really the tiniest amount of hockey in it, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncas/pseuds/ncas
Summary: “Do you have a licence?”“What?”“A licence. A driver’s licence that lets you drive cars legally?”“Yes, I do. I just don’t understand why this has anything to do with the storm.”orNeil and Andrew are brought together by their cats while stranded at the airport in Denver because of a snowstorm and they decide to rent a car and drive to Columbia instead.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: I'm a sinner, I'm a saint [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984120
Comments: 43
Kudos: 279





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a little ooc? Probably.  
> Am I gonna use the fact that it takes place about 8 years after the canon timeline and they both healed during that period? Definitely.
> 
> Disclamer 1:  
> This story is finished and I will upload the second chapter Sunday latest, do not worry.
> 
> Disclamer 2:  
> I am European and I have never been to the USA let alone taken a road trip in the middle of winter from Denver to Columbia. So if you come across anything untrue, please just ignore it. Google is my friend and I tried my best, but I'm sure I got things wrong.
> 
> Special thanks to [vettelian19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vettelian19/pseuds/vettelian19) for encouraging me to write this thing. It wouldn't exist without you honey. And to  
> [kanekicure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanekicure/pseuds/kanekicure) on AO3 and [mystlikestrouble](https://mystlikestrouble.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for their input, because I apparently need three people's help to write a semi-decent thing.
> 
> Also, if you want to read an amazing Andreil fic, read [The Nameless Monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23406979/chapters/56096917) by kanekicure because it's the best thing I've come across in this fandom and it deserves more recognition.

Neil startled awake when something soft touched his leg. He sat up so fast that he banged his head in the wall he was leaning against, while lying on the airport floor, using his duffel bag as a makeshift pillow. He hadn’t wanted to fall asleep in an open space, but with a wall to his back and head, and his bag securely underneath him, it would seem that he hadn’t been able to fight off the sleepiness he felt. But as he opened his eyes, instead of a mortal threat that his subconscious was expecting, all he saw was a very battered and very fluffy cat sitting in front of him, looking up at him with huge eyes, as if it too had been startled by Neil’s outburst. It probably had. Neil sat there for a few seconds, totally dumbfounded, his head throbbing, looking at his violent ambusher until they were both taken out of their stare-off by Sir’s desperate meowing in her carrier. The strange creature walked over to the box and flopped onto its back after sniffing the cat on the other side of the bars. Neil didn’t know what to think. He felt a bit as if he was still dreaming, suddenly exhausted as the adrenalin left his body. But he didn’t have a lot of time to wonder about the scene in front of him as the cat’s supposed owner was making his way towards them.

“King! Get back here you little shit!” he heard the man shout. It was obvious he didn’t care about the disapproving looks he earned from adults by swearing loudly in a packed terminal where children were present. “I swear to God, you’re impossible. How the hell did you manage to escape again? I should rename you to Houdini, fucking hell,” his voice was angry but also fond. Neil recognised the tone: It was the same he used quite often when talking to his own cat, he knew it well.

The man was almost in front of them now, and Neil could see that he was tiny, probably shorter than Neil himself, which was a rare occurrence with all of his 5 feet and 3 inches. The stranger scooped up his cat and turned to Neil as if he wanted to apologize for his cat intruding on him but then decided otherwise. Neil saw his hazel brown eyes which strangely complemented his unkempt blonde hair and decided to speak up.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sir - that’s my cat in her cat prison there - always managed to get out of whatever bag I put her in. So I decided on this really impractical but very secure carrier cage here. I’m Neil, by the way,” he stood up, holding out his hand to the man.

The cat in the other’s arm meowed loudly, trying desperately to wiggle free from its captor, so the man put it into the carrier backpack he was holding in his other hand, closed the zipper and put the bag onto the floor. The desperate and heartbroken meowing didn’t stop - got louder even - but they both ignored it. Cats are dramatic little shits, they both knew that. The animal was completely fine.

Neil was still holding out his hand, and honestly, he was starting to feel a little awkward, so he wiggled it a little bit, hoping that the still nameless man would take pity on him, and shake it. He didn’t.

“Andrew,” he did say instead, which was his name supposedly, so Neil dropped his hand. The man, Andrew, was still staring at Neil in a way he couldn’t decipher, and it made Neil stand on guard. He didn’t like not knowing what other people were thinking. The unknown can be dangerous, and Neil had survived enough danger to last a lifetime. He didn’t really know how to go forward from this encounter as the other man was still mute and just stood there. Finally, Sir joined in on the meowing concert King was hosting, and Neil had had enough. He opened the box, took his cat out and settled for holding her in his arm. She was a very big and very fat cat, and honestly weighed like 15 pounds, so Neil never held her for a longer period of time.

“This is Sir.”

“You already told me.”

“Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.” Neil saw a flicker of amusement in the other’s eyes.

“That’s a stupid name. And isn’t she a female cat?”

“Well, ‘King’ lacks any trace of imagination,” Neil retorted. “And do you think cats care about pointless social constructs such as gender and gender appropriate names?”

“ _Her_ full name is King Fluffkins. And no, I don’t,” Andrew answered, unable to completely prevent the smirk that was forming on his mouth.

Neil couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. “Hello Mr. Pot, I’m Kettle,” he said and held Sir closer to his chest, shifting so that his weight was resting on his right leg, and lifted his chin almost unnoticeably, but he was still smiling. He felt a weird kind of tension forming between them, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly. The man’s body language conveyed ‘threat’ but for some reason that Neil didn’t understand, his instinct wasn’t to run. With the heavy cat in his arms, he wouldn’t even be able to defend himself, but it didn’t freak him out like it usually would.

“It’s Minyard, actually.”

“Josten. Nice to meet you. And your cat as well, even though she scared the absolute shit out of me.”

“If the lightest touch scares the shit out of you, maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep in an airport,” which meant that the blond had seen Neil wake up frightened by the cat.

“Well, my flight last night got cancelled due to the snowstorm. But apparently, the airline could put me on another one that leaves this morning. If the storm quietens down. So I decided to stay at the airport. I didn’t want to waste money on a hotel room.” Neil was oversharing. He knew he was oversharing. This man that he had only known for a couple of minutes didn’t care about his situation and he shouldn’t even know about it all.

Andrew looked doubtful as he watched the still swirling snow through the window on the other side of the terminal.

“It doesn’t look like this’ll clear up anytime soon. Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Columbia. South Carolina.”

“That’s a long way to go with a cat,” Andrew said, as Neil had enough of Sir’s weight and put her down, trusting her not to wander off. She was a loyal cat. As they both looked down, they saw that King had managed to escape from her bag once more, and now was just sitting there next to Andrew’s leg, looking at Sir. Neil laughed a little at the exasperated huff Andrew let out at the sight, while watching the two cats sniff the other’s butt then start licking each other.

“It would seem these two are already friends,” Neil smiled. “And where is your flight taking you? Or was supposed to take you, I guess, with this blizzard out there.”

“Columbia. South Carolina.” And this time Neil full on laughed, like he hasn’t in months.

“We already established that you’re Mr. Pot, you don’t need to present further evidence to get your point across,” he said once he caught his breath. “I’m moving there and couldn’t leave this evil spawn behind. What’s your excuse for taking that poor thing on a 5-hour-long flight?”

“Adoption,” was all that Andrew said.

“You live in Columbia and adopted a cat from Denver or you’re a foster dad from Denver, whose feline daughter is getting adopted in Columbia?”

“The first one. And don’t ever refer to me as a _foster dad_ again.” He said the words with absolute malice, in a way that made Neil think that there is a story, a not at all pretty story behind them.

“Duly noted. And couldn’t you have adopted a cat from somewhere closer than 1600 miles away?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

As the conversation died down, Neil looked up and saw that all the flights for that day - and the next - got cancelled. Probably the ones after that as well, but they weren’t shown on the screen yet.

“Oh, fucking hell,” he said “I really don’t want to spend another two nights in this airport. Or in a hotel room.”

“Do you have a licence?”

“What?”

“A licence. A driver’s licence that lets you drive cars legally?”

“Yes, I do. I just don’t understand why this has anything to do with the storm.”

“You look like you’re over 25, right? We could rent a car, split the gas, and get to Columbia by tomorrow evening if we take turns driving,” Andrew explained. “Unless of course you’re afraid of being stuck in a car with a complete stranger for two days. I could be a serial killer.” There was a flicker of something in his eyes; a challenge maybe. Neil laughed. Oh, he did like a challenge. And whatever threat this man could pose, he was sure it couldn’t be worse than _growing up_ with a serial killer.

“I’m 26. And how do you know _I’m_ not the one who’s a serial killer?” he asked.

“I’ll take my chances,” Andrew replied, not quite menacingly, but also not _not_ menacingly. Neil was sure he shouldn’t accept. if his life on the run had taught him anything, it was this. But his father had been dead for seven years now. Whoever this man was, it was unlikely he had come to avenge his death. With a cat by his side.

“Okay, let’s drive to Columbia,” he finally said.

*

“Did you seriously have to choose the most expensive car?” Neil asked when they were finally sitting in a slick black Audi A7 Sportback. At least that’s what it said on the user guide that Neil found in the glove compartment. The plan was to take the I-70 E and its continuations, all the way to Columbia, where they deposit the car at the airport, and go on their own way from there. They still haven’t decided if they should spend one night in St. Louis and drive basically straight for 12 hours each day, with short pit stops in between, or stop in Kansas City and Nashville, thus making their journey longer, but probably more comfortable. They had bought a lot of snacks and water for themselves and for the cats because the closest town was more than 200 miles away.

“When you gotta travel, travel with style,” Andrew replied. “And besides, this is a hybrid. Which means it eats less fuel, so we can save money on that.”

“I’m pretty sure any money we’ll save on fuel, we already spent on what it cost to hire this car.”

“Do you wanna go fast and comfortably? Then shut up.”

“Oh wow, such a winning personality you have there. And anyways, we’ll have to stop quite a few times. These two gremlins won’t be able to travel for a long time in one go. Well, I don’t know about King, but Sir sure won’t.”

“I cannot do anything about the fact that for the next 220 miles there won’t be anything but nature and the road. The monsters will have to deal with it.”

“Well, I think they would prefer nature to a town, but alright. They’re sleeping anyways now.” Neil looked at the backseat where the box and the bag were kind of secured with the seatbelt, the cats sleeping soundly inside them.

Andrew was driving because he wanted to, and Neil didn’t have an opinion on it, so he let him. They travelled for about half an hour in silence, listening to the radio, before Neil spoke up again.

“I know we said home by tomorrow night, but it’s almost 10am, and St. Louis is 12 hours away without traffic and any stops. I really think we should spend tonight in Kansas City. It’s about 8 hours until we get there.”

“Okay,” Andrew agreed. “I didn’t sleep last night anyways, and I’m sure yours weren’t very relaxing either.”

“If you haven’t slept in about 24 hours, why the fuck are you the one driving?” Neil half shouted, turning his upper body to Andrew. “Don’t you know that driving while being tired is just as dangerous as driving while being drunk? Pull over. I’m going to drive and you are going to take a nap.”

“I wouldn’t even be able to sleep with you in the car. And I’m fine driving.”

“Yeah, sure you are. Pull over, I’m driving.”

“We’re on the highway. I cannot just pull over.”

“There’s barely anyone on the road. And you can stop in the emergency lane. I think this counts as an emergency. You haven’t slept in 24 hours and are now driving with 70 mph!”

“80,” Andrew corrected.

“Jesus Christ, the speed limit is 70. And we’re in a snowstorm! Pull. Over. We’re in a rental car, in case you forgot.”

“Has anyone told you before that you’re really quite annoying?”

“Yes, a lot of people. And you were the one who asked me to travel 1600 miles in car with them. You can only blame yourself. Pull. Over.”

“If I believed in regret, I would seriously regret that decision of mine now,” Andrew mumbled.

“Pull. Over.”

“You won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Not a chance. Pu-”

“Fine!” Andrew relented, turned on the blinker, changed lanes and slowed the car down to a stop. He and Neil switched seats quickly as it was very cold, very windy, and very snowy outside, but when they got back into the car, they heard the cats meowing.

“Look, you woke up the children,” Andrew berated Neil.

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Andrew said, got out of the car and sat back in next to King’s bag in the back. He opened the zipper before King could do it herself and laid her down in his lap. The cat immediately curled up on herself and started purring loudly. Andrew then opened Sir’s box and let her lie down beside him on the middle seat. When he was ready, he caught Neil’s eyes in the rear-view mirror, and eyed him expectantly.

“Don’t look at me. I won’t start the car with both cats roaming freely,” Neil answered the silent request to go.

“They are not roaming freely. They’re sleeping. This way we won’t have to hear their relentless meowing.”

“Fine. At least fasten your seatbelt,” Neil sighed, and started the car once Andrew did what he had asked.

They have been driving for a couple of minutes when Neil started laughing about seemingly nothing.

“What?” Andrew asked.

“I feel like I’m driving my son somewhere with you in the backseat,” he informed Andrew happily. And then with a smirk on his face he added. “You definitely have the height for it.”

“Oh, are we making short jokes now?” Andrew sounded fake-offended. “Because I don’t see you joining the NBA any time soon, either. Who’s the pot again?”

“It’s still you. I’m taller, so I can call you short,” Neil grinned.

“Just drive,” Andrew finished the conversation with an exasperated sigh, but Neil swore he could detect a trace of something like fondness in his voice. So he did as he was told and focused on the road.

“Oh shit, I love this song!” Neil shouted suddenly after a few moments of relative silence and turned up the radio.

“ _Just put the car in drive and don’t stop running till you’re long gone. They’ll never slow you down if you don’t look over your shoulder,”_ blared from the speakers of the car, Neil bobbing his head to the rhythm of the rock song.

“I cannot sleep if you blast the radio, you know,” Andrew grumbled.

“This is the ultimate road trip song, don’t you think? And besides, you said you wouldn’t be able to sleep with me in the car. Which is stupid as I’m driving and you’re behind the passenger seat. I wouldn’t be able to hurt you if I wanted to without stopping the car, which I’m sure would wake you up.”

“Sounds more like a runaway song than a roadtrip song,” Andrew said, ignoring Neil's logical argument.

“Well, that too. But you have to admit it slaps.”

“It _slaps_? Jesus, how old are you 26 or 16?”

“Well, I wasn’t really immersed in teen culture when I was a teen and I started to feel like I missed out on something so I may have spent too much time on the internet in the past few years,” Neil admitted and turned the radio back down when [_Safe_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSj59boCGmo)ended and some typical top 40 pop song by a suffering female singer came on.

“And what were you doing in your teens that made you miss out on this essential coming of age experience?” Andrew asked.

“I…” Neil wasn’t about to tell the story of how he spent his teens on the run with his mother from his murderous crime lord of a father. “…moved a lot,” he said instead.

Andrew looked at Neil’s scars on his face a little too intensely for comfort, but then just hummed and said. “I’m pretty sure there are teens in every city.”

“I never really had the opportunity to make friends. We never stayed at one place for a long time.” Which was the truth.

“Was their job more important for mommy and daddy than the stable upbringing of their son?”

Neil choked on a laugh. _That’s one way to put it._

“Something like that,” he said eventually. “And what about you? Childhood spent with mom and dad and one and a half siblings in a picket fence house somewhere in the suburbs of Columbia?”

“No, childhood spent with numerous foster families before my biological uncle found me and I learned that I have an identical twin brother who my bitch of a mother decided to keep while she threw me away. So we got reunited but then the bitch decided to die in a car crash, then our cousin left his boyfriend in Germany and came to Columbia to be our legal guardian and put us through high school,” Andrew replied in one breath in a completely unbothered tone, matter of factly.

“Oh wow,” was all that Neil could say in response. He hadn’t expected Andrew to tell his whole life story to a stranger he met about one and a half hours ago.

“I’m sure you have a story similarly exciting looking at your scars,” Andrew continued nonchalantly. “Care to share with the audience?”

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to ask about people’s scars?”

“I told you my story, the least you can do is tell me yours in exchange.”

“I never asked for your story,” stated Neil.

“Yes, you did. It’s your fault you didn’t expect the honesty you got in return,” Andrew pointed out.

“Let’s just say my childhood wasn’t very peaceful either and not just for the fact that we were on the move constantly,” was all Neil said. He felt that he could have shared a less watered-down story with Andrew and the man would take it without a flinch, and that scared him. So he had decided against it.

“Alright, keep your secrets. For now,” Andrew said, leaned against the window and closed his eyes. “I’m going to nap now. If you gotta wake me up, don’t.”

Neil smiled despite himself and turned the radio real low, barely a hum. He tried to focus on the endless road in front of him, but that proved to be difficult. His gaze shifted back at Andrew through the rear-view mirror every so often, as he was sleeping with one cat curled up on his lap and one on the seat beside him. One hand burrowed in the fur of each. He looked peaceful, not like he did when he was awake. He was a strange man who decided to drive to Columbia with Neil, but said he didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with him in the car. However, he was fast asleep right now, which meant he wasn’t afraid of Neil anymore. Maybe he saw reason when Neil said he wouldn’t be able to hurt him in his sleep.

Neil stared out at the endless road in front of him, snow swirling, and felt memories arise of his teenage years with his mum on the run. The stretch of the highway was familiar and the lack of dread that used to fill his veins was comfortable. Driving without running was still something he had to get used to, but right now he felt completely at ease.

*

Andrew has been sleeping for about one and a half hours, and Neil quite frankly was starting to get bored. It turns out if you listen to the same radio channel for two hours, you’ll notice that they’re just repeating the same songs over and over again. The white blank fields around them didn’t bring any sort of entertainment either. Neil had counted to a thousand in German and French when he had enough and decided to wake Andrew up despite being told not to. He first tried by simply calling his name but that was fruitless, Andrew continued to sleep peacefully. For someone who was supposedly uncomfortable with the vulnerability that came with being asleep with someone else in close proximity, he sure was a deep sleeper. So Neil resorted to lightly shaking Andrew’s left knee which was more or less in his reach. But the moment his hands touched Andrew, Andrew woke up violently. His whole body jerked and his left arm shot out presumably to fight off whoever tried to attack him. The cats went running, while meowing offendedly, claws marking the expensive seats. Neil could barely keep the car on the road in his surprise and then they skidded to a halt in the emergency lane.

“What the hell?” Neil turned to Andrew. That’s when he saw that Andrew was holding a knife in his hands. Neil definitely wasn’t bored anymore. “What the fuck was that? How the fuck are you holding a knife right now? How do you have a knife on you at all?”

“I told you not to wake me up,” Andrew replied, sounding unbothered, and slid the knife under the band on his arm.

“Were you planning on taking that on the plane? You know metal detectors can see through armbands, right?” Neil was still baffled by Andrew’s reaction and by how quickly he had managed to have a weapon in his hand. An ordinary man would probably have felt afraid stuck in a car with a knife wielding man in the middle of nowhere, but Neil wasn’t scared. If anything, it made him interested. He knew his way around knives and people who used them. Andrew didn’t deem Neil’s question worthy of response, instead he started to coax King out from under the passenger seat.

“Are you alright, though? I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Neil said finally.

“You didn’t _frighten_ me. It's just an old reflex that I thought I had managed to grow out of, but apparently being in an unfamiliar car with an unfamiliar man brings it back.”

Neil chuckled.

“What?” Andrew sounded irritated.

“Do you remember telling me off for being scared shitless by the lightest touch? At least I didn’t pull a knife on King, Mr. Pot,” grinned Neil cheekily.

“I didn’t tell you off for being scared shitless by the slightest touch. I told you off for falling asleep in an airport if you get scared shitless by the slightest touch. And you can stop with your Mr. Pot references, they’re getting quite annoying.” Andrew feigned exasperation, but there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, so Neil had the courage to reply

“No, I think you like them. Andrew “Mr. Pot” Minyard. Such a cool name, and very fitting,” Neil continued grinning.

“Whatever. I’m driving from now on,” stated Andrew with pretend blankness and tried to put King back into her bag, but she wouldn’t go.

“Let me help,” said Neil and promptly climbed to the back between the driver and the passenger seat. He sat down and held open the bag with his two hands.

“No, you need to hold her by the nape of her neck. That’s how the mama cats transport their babies. It’ll immobilise her and you’ll be able to put her in the bag.”

“I didn’t know you were a cat whisperer,” Andrew grumbled, but he grabbed King where Neil told him to, and they managed to put her in the bag, and close the zipper.

“Let’s hope she’ll stay there. Don’t you have something that we could tie the zippers together so that she won’t be able to open them?” asked Neil.

Andrew produced a zip tie from somewhere in his bag and they secured the zippers. 

“There. That should keep her from escaping again,” said Neil, then took Sir out from under the driver’s seat and put her into her box and closed the bars. “We should keep them closed up from now on, before they climb under the pedals and kill us accidentally.

“Good thought,” Andrew agreed, and they climbed into the front seats. This time through the doors and not over the center console.

“There’s a town coming up in about an hour, we could stop there and have lunch,” said Neil once they were on the road again. “Actually, there are several little towns coming up until then, but they are all basically made up of two streets, but this one, Colby, is a bit bigger than that.

“Fine by me.” Andrew seemed still a bit distracted, maybe as an aftershock of his violent wake-up call.

Neil didn’t like small talk and it seemed neither did Andrew, so they just listened to the radio repeating the same songs until they arrived at the town. It was a little north of the highway, but it turned out they didn’t need to go into town, as several diners and stores were established next to the highway. They chose one called Welcome Home Café. They had a brief disagreement about what to do with the cats, while they’re eating, though.

“We cannot take them into the diner, Andrew! It’s against the health code!”

“We cannot leave them in the car, either.”

“Why couldn’t we? They are sleeping, it’s not sunny at all, they won’t die from heat. We can even open their carriers so they can move around in the car,” argued Neil.

“Do you wanna run after two cats if they slip out the open door when we try to sit back in? Or clean if they pee or shit on the expensive upholstery?” asked Andrew, his tone implying that he knew the answer would be an obvious no.

“I’m a fast runner,” said Neil just out of spite.

*

“Okay but we actually need to do something about them needing to go to the toilet. We cannot keep them closed in for eight hours,” Neil spoke up when they finally agreed to leave the cats in the car with the windows rolled down a tiny bit and settled at a table inside the diner. They managed to drive out of the snowstorm, but it was still freezing outside.

“And what do you propose as a solution?”

“We should buy them a harness so we can take them out on walks,” grinned Neil. “There’s a Walmart on the other side of the I-70,” he pointed at the map opened on his phone screen. “They sell pet accessories.”

That’s how they ended up walking two cats on leash on the grass next to the Walmart parking lot after lunch. Sir sporting a bright orange harness and leash combo with reflective stripes, and King a plain black one. They must have been a ridiculous sight for the passing cars. The cats really didn’t like being walked, but they soon learned to deal with it, so after they did their business and were fed (Andrew pointed out the mistake in the order of the activities), all four of them were sitting in the car driving towards Kansas City.

*

They tried to entertain themselves and each other, but a five-hour-long journey is exhausting, even with regular pit stops and toilet breaks for them and for the cats. Andrew ate through all the candy he had bought himself while Neil munched on his trail mix. Sometimes Neil turned up the radio and sang wholeheartedly along to some song, sometimes Andrew did. Well, he never sang but it was obvious when he appreciated a song from the tiny quirk in the corner of his mouth. They took turns driving and talked about everything and anything that came to mind. They talked about Andrew’s brother and his fiancée (both doctors in Columbia), his cousin living with his husband in Germany; Neil mentioned having an Uncle Stuart in England (he conveniently left out the part about him being a mob boss, Andrew didn’t need to know that). He told Andrew about his mum and how they enjoyed using a British accent whenever they went somewhere just the two of them. When he demonstrated said accent Andrew got so annoyed at his poshness that he refused to speak to him for about 10 minutes.

“What’s the deal with you and your knife?” asked Neil from the driver’s seat about an hour from Kansas City. It has been dark for hours thanks to the short winter days and the lack of streetlights made the icy road even more treacherous.

“They’re for protection. I don’t trust people,” offered Andrew as an explanation.

“ _They?_ You have more than one?”

Andrew pulled out four knives in various sizes from under his armbands with practiced moves before sliding them back in just as gracefully.

“Do you have sheaths under there or is that a really slow attempt at suicide?” grinned Neil earning an eyeroll from Andrew in return but no verbal response.

Neil shifted his gaze back onto the road, and spoke up, “It’s nice to finally meet someone else who gets comfort from having knives within reach. But I sent mine ahead with the movers. I have no idea how you planned on taking them on the plane.”

Andrew looked at him at that and raised an eyebrow in question, not answering Neil’s not really one.

“But can you throw them, though?” smirked Neil.

“No, not yet. Not properly at least,” Andrew decided to answer after a few seconds of eyeing Neil's profile.

“I can teach you if you want.”

“Let’s just get to KC and find a place to sleep.”

So they drove until they reached the city. Finding a place to sleep was actually pretty easy. They decided to drive across the state border that night because apparently the bigger part of Kansas City was actually in Missouri, which was pretty weird in Neil’s opinion. Why is it called _Kansas_ City if it’s centered in Missouri and not Kansas? Seriously.

They chose the first hotel they came across, and smuggled in the cats once they checked in. Neil’s, or more like Sir’s secure but inconvenient box really seemed inconvenient now. Andrew could easily put King’s bag on, just like a regular backpack, and simply, albeit quickly, walk into their room, whereas Neil needed to do some serious manoeuvring. Once they were all safely inside the room, they set up the litter they bought back in Colby for the cats in the bathroom. Neil chose the bed closer to the door, and Andrew was fine with the one next to the window.

Neil headed to the bathroom first to wash off the gunk of the road and the airport. Once he came out clean and in his PJs, Andrew was already asleep, curled up in a ball on top of the covers, the cats lying around him.

“Who’s the cat whisperer, really?” thought Neil with a smile. He decided against waking Andrew up, learning from the incident earlier, even though he knew Andrew would be more comfortable if he showered or at least brushed his teeth. In the end he draped his own covers over Andrew’s body because the man only had a light sweatshirt on. Neil tended to run hot anyways, or he could sleep in a hoodie. He had slept in much worse circumstances before.

*

Neil woke in the middle of the night to Andrew’s grumbling. Supposedly he had woken up, realised he was still in his travel clothes and decided to clean himself up, because Neil heard the bathroom door open and close and then the shower cut on. He tried to fall asleep after that with Sir, the traitor, finally lying next to his stomach, but Andrew was quick in the bathroom and Neil was still awake, when he walked to his bag with only a towel around his waist. Neil couldn't help but notice how the moonlight glistened on the muscles in his back as Andrew searched the contents of his bag, but closed his eyes, when Andrew turned around and walked back to the bathroom to get changed. Neil could understand. He wouldn’t have felt comfortable changing with someone else in the room, even if he thought that the person was asleep. Andrew exited the bathroom once more, and Neil watched as he walked back to his bed in sweatpants and a clean long-sleeved shirt this time. When he reached his bed, he stopped in his track and muttered something that sounded a lot like “I fucking hate him” under his breath, then turned around. Neil shut his eyes as fast as he could, but when he felt a blanket land over him, he opened them slowly and thanked Andrew with a small smile. Andrew froze for a second, then looked Neil in the eye and said, “I hate you”. He walked back to his bed and curled up - _under_ the covers this time - with King by his side. Neil still felt the effect of Andrew’s words and stare in his gut even when he heard the other’s breath deepen and even out. But this feeling was different than anything he ever felt before and definitely not the reaction he usually felt when someone had told him they hated him. Somehow he didn’t believe Andrew completely meant what he said and he fell asleep wondering about it.

*

When Neil woke up again it was to the cats’ heartbroken meowing. The sun was already high in the sky, and it being winter, that meant it was closer to midday than to the morning. Neil wondered why the cats hadn’t started meowing earlier about being starved. Maybe they were tired from sleeping in a moving car instead of on a sedentary sofa. Being a cat is very demanding.

They - meaning Andrew and him, not the cats - had planned to leave bright and early, but it might had been for the better if they caught up on some much needed proper sleep. Neil quickly fed the cats, he didn’t want them to attract the attention of the hotel staff after all, as Andrew started to show signs of waking up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Neil greeted him joyfully and only got a grunt in response that could have meant either “Go fuck yourself” or “Good morning to you, too”. Neil wasn’t sure which one it was.

“Hotel breakfast is over, as it is past 10 am, but we could go somewhere for a brunch, or just simply for a coffee, if you don’t feel like eating in the morning,” Neil continued. In this hotel the check-out time was 12 pm for some reason, and Neil was endlessly grateful that they didn’t have to pay for another night.

“How are you this cheery early in the morning?” Andrew grumbled.

“It’s past 10 am, as I said. I wouldn’t call that ‘early in the morning’,” Neil chided Andrew. “Up you get, we have a long drive ahead of us today!” then he went to the bathroom to get changed and to brush his teeth.

Once they were on the road again with their coffee in the cup holder after a quick brunch – Andrew ate Sir’s weight in pancakes drenched in maple syrup, while Neil decided on some eggs with bacon – Neil opened the map on his phone.

“You know, St. Louis is coming up,” he said.

“And?”

“And do you know what’s in St. Louis?”

“66 homicides per 100,000 residents in 2017?”

“Uhm… well, that too. But I was thinking about the St. Louis Blues,” grinned Neil.

“The what now?”

“The St. Louis Blues! They are an NHL team and won the Stanley Cup in 2019. And they have the cutest mascot puppy. Well he’s not a puppy anymore, but he’s still very cute,” said Neil and pulled up the dog’s Instagram page to show Andrew [the video](https://www.instagram.com/p/BrVskfPDWU1/) from December 2018 where Barclay, the dog, still as a puppy stole one of the player’s hockey stick during practice and tried running of with it on the ice before picking up a puck and making a run for it with that instead.

“I’m driving,” Andrew reminded Neil, when the latter shoved his phone under his nose to show him the video.

“That’s alright. If you give me your handle, I can just send it to you,” said Neil and did just so after Andrew surrendered his account.

“You know this means we officially know each other, right?” said Neil half-jokingly and half-seriously, the ever-present grin on his face.

“I didn’t realize being stuck together for a day didn’t make us acquaintances, but a tap on your mobile did.”

“No, we already were acquaintances, but this way we have a way of contacting each other after this road trip.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“I wanna know how you and King get on. A new kitty is always a challenge. I expect regular photo updates.”

Andrew just rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the road ahead him.

“You know, I didn’t take you for a hockey fan.” This was the first time that Andrew was the one to start up a conversation in the past 24 hours, Neil was kind of shocked.

“It’s fast, aggressive and the sound the skates make when gliding on the ice is ethereal. What’s not to like?”

Andrew hummed.

“I’m actually not a big fan of the Blues,” continued Neil, happy that Andrew seemed to indulge his obsession. Or at least not outright shut it down like most people did. “The Canes - the Carolina Hurricanes that is - are my people. But a hockey city is a hockey city, we should definitely go check out the stadium. We can still get to Nashville by tonight, especially with your crazy driving. Please?”

“I _don’t_ like that word.”

“What, ‘please’?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t use it then anymore. But I still want to visit the stadium. I have never been able to visit one. There’s a game tonight, so I’m pretty sure we won’t be able to go inside, but still, it’s an NHL stadium!”

“You want me to drive around St. Louis just so that you can look at a building from the outside?”

“It’s literally two blocks away from where we need to follow the highway,” pointed out Neil. “And there’s a nice park in front of it. Also, we have to eat lunch somewhere, and we should arrive to St. Louis around 2 pm. It’s literally perfect, you have no arguments that I can’t refute.”

“Fine.”

“And you know, we can go find a place where I can teach you how to throw a knife, too.”

“Whatever.”

Neil smiled at his victory and tried to fill the almost four hours it took them to get to the city, with mindless chatter.

*

The Enterprise Center was beautiful. Banners of the players and an enormous picture of the Stanley Cup decorated its glass panels. Neil didn’t tell Andrew, but the Blues were actually playing the Canes that night and Neil was hoping to maybe run into one of the players, even though he knew that would be very unlikely. They were probably taking their after-lunch/pre-game nap, anyways. He walked around the building nevertheless appreciating its beauty before joining Andrew on the bench where he was sitting in front of the building with the cats.

“Are you done swooning over a building?” asked Andrew.

“Yes, I am. Let’s go have lunch now.”

They chose an Italian restaurant to eat (the cats left in the car this time as well) and then on Neil’s prompting, they drove to a shooting range where they could also practice throwing knives.

“Show me what you got,” Neil asked Andrew once they got inside and set up in front of a group of targets. “I wanna see what we’re working with.”

So Andrew got out his weapons and threw them towards the targets. Three knives hit the cut-out shapes of men, but missed the crucial parts where Andrew was probably aiming. The fourth one hit the target with its handle then fell to the ground in front of him.

“Not bad, but there’s definitely room for improvement,” said Neil while walking over to pick up the knives. “Most people think the trick of knife throwing lies in the wrist, but it actually lies in the arm. The aim is to slow down the rotation of the knife. Of course, this would be much easier with actual throwing knives, but these’ll do. Watch me,” he finished and threw all four in quick succession. All bullseye. Andrew was staring at the blades buried in the hearts of the targets and then back at Neil with a kind of darkness Neil has never seen before. At first, he thought it was fury as that’s what he was used to, but there was something else in Andrew’s eyes.

Neil guided Andrew through the motions a few times. He showed Andrew how to move his arm, how much to bend his elbow and how to use his thumb resting on the blunt side of the blade to help his aim. Andrew was a quick learner, though, when he wanted to be, so by the end of the hour, he could confidently impale the soda cans that were available to use as targets at the range and Neil couldn’t help but appreciate the move of his arm muscles in his tight T-shirt as he threw his knives with precision.

“Okay, I think that’s enough time spent in St. Louis. We should get back on the road if we want to reach Nashville by tonight.” Neil went and picked up the cats by their carriers and handed King to Andrew after he put his knives away.

“I thought you would want to stay for the game tonight.”

“Why would I? It’s not very exciting standing outside the arena. And the tickets cost a small fortune, even if there’s any left.” Neil sounded disappointed.

“It’s a good thing then that I already have two.”

Neil stopped in his tracks and turned to Andrew so fast he felt a bit dizzy. Albeit the dizziness might have been caused by what Andrew had just said, instead of the sudden movement.

“What? For real? Are you serious right now? I swear to God, Andrew Minyard, if you’re lying, I will gut you with your own knives. Don’t think I won’t.”

“I never lie,” Andrew said and pulled out two tickets from the pocket of his coat as proof.

Neil’s jaw dropped, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. The two tickets must have cost around 200 bucks. Andrew spent so much money on them, and as far as Neil knew, he didn’t even like hockey. He was gobsmacked.

“Stop gaping like a fish, they aren’t even close to the rink.”

“Where and when did you get them?”

“From where most people get their tickets. I bought them from the ticket office while you were mustering up the courage to propose to a building.”

“Let me pay for my own ticket at least, then. I don’t want you to waste your money on this,” asked Neil.

“No.”

*

Inside the arena was busier than inside a beehive. Out of the almost 20,000 seats in the Enterprise Center, barely any was vacant, and Neil felt it. He still had ambivalent feelings about big crowds; on the one hand he could easily disappear in them, on the other hand anyone who might try to hurt him could easily disappear in them, as well. However, as he and Andrew made their way to their seats which, true to Andrew’s words, weren’t close to the ice at all, all Neil could feel was excitement. He loved hockey more than anything but had never been able to go to a game. The atmosphere was intoxicating, the anticipation bouncing off of the fans and being amplified as it made its way around the stands. But that was nothing compared to when the teams made their way onto the ice. Neil screamed “Bunch of jerks!” with the other fans when the Canes came on the ice and to Andrew’s confused look, he explained how once a commentator called them a bunch of jerks for their “stupid” celebrations, and how immediately they made that phrase their own and created T-shirts with it on them. But then the game started and Neil was immediately immersed. It wasn’t the most exciting game he had ever seen, but it was still an NHL game from the stands, so he screamed his lungs out at every rough checking, penalty and goal. He felt Andrew’s eyes on him from time to time, and swore he heard the blond mutter a “fucking junkie” a few times, but his attention was completely focused on the game. Neil had played collegiate hockey but never had the chance to go pro. And looking at two NHL teams playing in front of him, he was sure he never would have been good enough for this level anyways.

At the end, the Blues won 2-1 but Neil was still full of adrenalin that even the disappointment of losing couldn’t tame, so he was practically bouncing off the walls as they made their way to the car.

The great thing about big cities was that they could find anything there, including a kitty day care, where they had left Sir and King before the game. Leaving them in the car for 3 hours for the duration of the game had been definitely off the table.

Neil was still over the moon after his first ever NHL game and couldn’t stop grinning as he got into their car.

“That was the best night of my life, oh my god!” he turned to Andrew with shining eyes once he was in the passenger seat.

“Do not look at me like that,” Andrew said and pushed two fingers to Neil’s jaw to turn his face away, but Neil turned back immediately once the other pulled his hand away, his skin tingling where the blond’s fingers had touched his face.

“No, but seriously thank you,” he was looking in Andrew’s hazel eyes earnestly. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before in my life. I’m actually very happy about that snowstorm now,” he grinned. “Not just because it enabled me to go to my first ever NHL game, but because I got to meet you, Andrew.” He momentarily registered the darkness he had seen in Andrew’s eyes back at the range return, before he sensed more than saw Andrew unbuckle himself and surge across the gearshift and capture Neil’s lips with his own. Neil was shocked at first. At 26 he had only ever kissed two people, but he never liked it or wanted to do anything more with them. But right then he quickly realized how much he wanted this, and kissed Andrew back, like his life depended on it. His hands instinctively moved to Andrew’s hair which must have been a mistake, because at the first touch, Andrew pulled away like he had been burnt and muttered profanities under his breath.

“Fuck. No. I can’t. I will not be like them, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said more to himself than to Neil holding onto the steering wheel like a lifeline.

“They who?” asked Neil. “Whatever you’re talking about, Andrew, don’t be sorry about that kiss. I know I’m not.”

Andrew looked at him with the darkness in his eyes that Neil now recognized as desire.

“Can I kiss you? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

And this time it was Neil who moved across the gearshift to kiss Andrew, his hands finding their way back into the blond’s hair, slightly tugging on the longer strands on top, before he climbed over to straddle Andrew’s lap.

“Do not touch me below my shoulders,” Andrew warned Neil, breathing the words into Neil’s mouth. Neil’s whole body was on fire and he moved his hands to the nape of Andrew’s neck, playing with the buzz cut hair there. And then started giggling right into Andrew’s mouth.

“What? Why are you laughing?” pulled away Andrew.

“Do you think if I pinched you here,” Neil continued caressing the back of Andrew’s neck, “you’d go limp just like cats do?” he asked with twinkling eyes.

“Jesus fucking Christ, how am I attracted to you?” groaned Andrew but it quickly turned into a different kind of groan when Neil started kissing along his jaw and neck.

“Oh, you do limp when I touch your neck,” Neil laughed into the soft skin as a shudder ran through Andrew’s body before he virtually melted into Neil’s touch.

“Shut the fuck up,” said Andrew and kissed Neil’s mouth to make sure he obeyed.

They stayed in the seat, connected by curious lips and exploring hands, for what felt like ages but probably was more like half an hour before they broke apart.

“We should probably find a place to stay the night and take this there, before we get arrested for public indecency,” said Neil, still trying to catch his breath.

“Okay.” Andrew sounded just as out of breath as Neil felt, his hair messy, pointing in every direction as a result of Neil’s wandering hands.

As they had decided before the game to leave their cats at the cat sitter place for the night instead of driving around St. Louis after 10 pm to pick them up and then having to smuggle them into another hotel, they were childless for the night. 

*

They were on their way to the place Neil found on his phone when Andrew decided to stop at a small corner shop.

“I need ice cream,” he announced as he gracefully parallel parked between two cars in front of the store.

“Seriously? At half past ten? In the middle of winter?” Neil sounded amused.

“Yes.”

So in they went and made their way towards the freezer at the back of the 24-hour store. They were hidden behind the shelves when they heard the door jingle once more as someone else came in. Then they froze in their tracks when they heard the newcomer speak up.

“Shut up and give me the money from the register!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you okay?” Neil asked, hovering over Andrew.  
> “Of course I am,” answered Andrew. “Bleeding from a bullet wound is an everyday occurrence, I don’t even feel it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for the parts in a foreign language are in the end notes.

“Shut up and give me the money from the register!”

Neil heard the words and acted without thinking. He pulled two knives out from under Andrew’s armbands – if the blond noticed, he didn’t say anything, too focused on what might be happening at the front of the store - and very slowly rounded the cereal aisle. When he looked out from behind the boxes, he saw that what they had thought to be one attacker, was actually two. One was holding a gun at the employee’s head, the other standing further back to give weight to his co-worker’s words if the gun wouldn’t be enough. The check out counter was positioned so that the clerk could see the store, but it meant that the attackers standing in front of her were showing their back to Neil. That was their first mistake. No, their first mistake had been not checking if the store was empty. Their _second_ one was not covering each other’s backs which would have been logical when there’s two of them. Neil shook his head a little in pity. He never understood low-level criminals. Still, these guys needed to be taught a lesson, so he took his – Andrew’s – knives and aimed at the first guy’s hand in order to knock his gun on the ground. But before he could act on his intention, another knife came flying from behind Neil.

Andrew’s aim was clearly the same as Neil’s, but instead of hitting the gun, it got buried in the counter, about two inches below the robber’s hand. The criminals didn’t take long wondering where that blade came from, they turned around and the first guy fired his gun. Neil ducked behind the shelf when he sensed the men turning and instinctively reached his hand behind, to pull Andrew with him. But he hadn’t been quick enough. As they fell into relative safety, Neil noticed Andrew was hunched over, holding his left side. Neil saw red. He saw the red liquid slightly stain Andrew’s coat first, then the red haze started filling up his mind. He felt himself shift. What he built “Neil Josten” up to be was retreating, instead giving its space to his old self. To Nathaniel Wesninski. To the person Neil hoped he had left behind that night in Baltimore, when with the help of his uncle, they had taken down his father and most of his men. He had left Nathaniel to die then, but now Neil welcomed him back. Because just like Neil, Nathaniel wouldn’t let anyone get away with someone hurting the people he cares about. But unlike Neil, Nathaniel was calculating, cool, calm, and collected, but most importantly he was ruthless and the son of the Butcher of Baltimore, his knives the extension of his body.

Neil had wanted to use the element of surprise to his advantage but that was out of the window now. Bad Guy 1 and Bad Guy 2 were probably making their way towards the aisle and would reach it any second now. He needed to act fast. Bringing a knife to a gunfight was never a brilliant idea, even if he could wield them since he was eight. You cannot just throw them blindly as you can fire a gun. But if Neil peeked his head out from behind his cover, he was sure to meet a bullet faster than he could aim and throw his knives. Next to him, Andrew was still on the ground, with his back against the shelves, holding onto his wound. It didn’t look like he was bleeding out, but he didn’t look good at all. Neil needed to come up with a plan. He looked around him, searching for something that could aid him. That’s when he noticed the small mirror hung up on the ceiling an aisle back, positioned so that the employee working the register could see what was going on in the back of the shop. But it also allowed Neil to see the robbers making their way towards them. Thankfully, they hadn’t noticed the mirror themselves, so they didn’t see Neil looking in the mirror, calculating the differences of real life compared to the mirror image, then taking the first knife and throwing it with a scary precision, until it buried into the left shoulder of Bad Guy 1. The man screamed in pain and dropped his gun, momentarily distracting his partner. And that moment of distraction was exactly what Neil was waiting for. He quickly picked up the knife Andrew had dropped and stormed at the two men.

They looked up in surprise, clearly somehow not expecting Neil coming onto them like this. But their temporary shock didn’t last long. Bad Guy 2 pulled out a blade of his own and charged at Neil. But Neil had expected it. He expertly dodged the attack then pushed the man’s right shoulder with his left, before embedding his knife into the other’s back, next to his shoulder blade. That man went down screaming as well, no longer holding his knife. He tried to fight with his fist, but Neil easily blocked his blows, so he threw his hands up – or more like threw his left hand up, as he could barely move his right one – in surrender, probably not wanting to find out if the second knife would hurt just as much as the first one did, when it is stabbed into his flesh. The first guy was still on the ground, having made the wise decision of not pulling the blade out from his shoulder, so Neil picked up his discarded gun as well, put the safety back on, then put it in his belt.

He looked up at the cashier to ask for something he could tie the robbers up with, but the girl already had a ball of rope in one of her hands, calling the police with the other. She threw the ropes at Neil who caught it easily. He tied their hands behind their back securely and ran back to Andrew. The fight left him kind of disappointed. With all the adrenalin pumping in his body, the fact that it had been over in a couple of minutes left him jittery, far from satisfied and still itching for a fight. He could have easily killed the two men for hurting Andrew, but he really didn’t want to deal with the police, so he made sure not to hurt anything vital. New life and all. As long as they didn’t pull the knives out themselves, they would be fine. He was sure the men wouldn’t press charges against him, as that would require confessing trying to rob the store.

Andrew was standing up, leaning on a shelf when Neil reached him, still holding onto his side. He didn’t look like he was bleeding out, though. The fact that he was standing up and not lying unconsciously on the floor, was a good sign in itself.

“Are you okay?” Neil asked, hovering over Andrew.

“Of course I am,” answered Andrew. “Bleeding from a bullet wound is an everyday occurrence, I don’t even feel it.”

“If you’re capable of sarcasm, it cannot be that serious of a wound,” smiled Neil a little in spite of the anxiety he felt. “Let me take a look at it.”

Andrew lifted his hand gingerly and let Neil take off his coat, which was more or less ruined by the hole the bullet had left in it. When it came to taking off his hoodie, Neil looked Andrew in the eye in silent question and upon Andrew’s nod, he pried it off of him. Underneath, Andrew’s T-shirt was thorn as well and he took in a short breath when Neil started to prod at his wound. Neil had been right; it wasn’t deep. The bullet clearly missed Andrew and only grazed his side, and the bloodflow coming out of the injury was thin if a little too constant.

“You escaped with the bullet only scratching your skin,” stated Neil, “but we need to stop the bleeding. Apply pressure to the wound, while I find something we can patch you up with,” he instructed Andrew.

“That’s what I’ve been doing the whole time, asshole,” grumbled Andrew. 

“Okay, keep up the good work then,” Neil said, then stood up to ask the cashier if they have a first aid kit.

“Wait!” exclaimed Andrew. “There’s a first aid kit in the car. Let’s just go before the cops get here. I’m not really a fan of them.”

“Can you walk?”

“You said it only scratched my skin. I’ve had worse.”

So they left the store amidst the myriad of “Thank you”-s, “Are you sure you’re alright?”-s and “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for the ambulance?”-s coming from the store’s employee, and Neil sat Andrew in the backseat. He then climbed behind the steering wheel and left the crime scene, just as they heard sirens start up in the distance. When they deemed to be far away enough from the cops, Neil pulled over at the side of the road and opened the trunk to take out the first aid kit. He found some antiseptic and gauze in the box, so he rounded the car to Andrew who had his T-shirt off by the time Neil reached him. Neil cleaned the wound expertly so that it wouldn’t get infected, then wrapped it neatly and securely to keep it from dirt and so that Andrew wouldn’t bleed on the expensive car seats. He wanted their deposit back, even if that was less and less likely by the mile.

“There you go,” said Neil. “Now you have a bullet wound too. Or half of a bullet wound, more precisely. We can stop at a CVS and get you some painkillers on our way to the hotel.” When he looked up at Andrew from where he had been checking out the bandage, he was met with a confused scowl.

“You have a bullet wound?”

“Oh, yeah,” answered Neil, and pulled at the collar of his crewneck so that the little puckered scar under his shoulder became visible. Usually he wouldn’t just show his scars so nonchalantly, but he knew Andrew wouldn’t look at him with horror or worse. With pity.

“How did you get that?”

“I say let’s get to the hotel first and we can have a little heart-to-heart when I tell you my tragical backstory,” said Neil quietly. He climbed into the driver’s seat and drove away.

*

When they finally were inside their hotel room. free from their bags, Neil checked Andrew’s bandages. They were looking clean, which meant the bleeding has stopped and Neil didn’t have to change them already. He then opened the small orange bottle and shook out two pills which he gave them to Andrew with a bottle of water.

“Take these.”

Andrew obeyed, and chased the painkillers down with half of the bottle of water.

“I believe you promised me a tragic backstory,” he said to Neil after he put down the bottle.

“I- yeah I did,” sighed Neil. “But it’s not something I usually tell people. Or something people are usually glad to be told.”

“You’re the Butcher of Baltimore’s son,” said Andrew matter of factly.

Neil’s face had been all over the news 8 years ago, but he hadn’t expected anyone to recognize him after all this time.

“You knew,” he said accusingly.

“I had feeling,” started Andrew. “Those blue eyes and auburn hair are not a very common combination. Then you talked about ‘moving a lot’ and missing out on your teenage years. These combined with you using knives like they were parts of your body; your scars and your ‘tragic backstory’, I was pretty sure.”

“Then I don’t need to tell you my story, if you already know,” pointed out Neil.

“I learned what’s in the media can be vastly different from what happened in reality.”

“This time, the media was right,” said Neil. “My mum took me and a couple hundred thousand dollars when I was 8 and we ran away from my father who you can guess wasn’t very happy about it. So we were on the run for 8 years, until Daddy dearest caught up with us in California and killed my mum while I got away. I then swore to kill him which I did two years later with the help of my Uncle Stuart. And now I’m here.”

“That’s one hell of a sob story,” was all Andrew said as a reaction.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t call it an ideal childhood, no,” smiled Neil. Then with a glint in his eyes he asked Andrew. “How badly are you hurt?”

Andrew looked at him a bit confused. “You know exactly how badly I am hurt. Why are you asking?”

“It would be a shame if we didn’t make use of this childless hotel room,” said Neil with a grin. “We’ll just have to make sure to avoid your left side.”

The confusion in Andrew’s eyes gave way to want when Neil asked him if he could kiss Andrew.

“Yes.”

*

When Neil woke up the next morning, he felt Andrew’s breath on his neck, one of his arms under his pillow, the other draped over his waist. It was strange, waking up with someone else in bed with him for the first time since he was on the run with his mum. However, sleeping with her pressed against his back, her arm never relaxing its fierce grip, not even in her sleep, had been nothing like waking up with Andrew. He was holding him close not out of fear, but purely out of affection and comfort. He turned around and studied Andrew’s face for a few minutes. His messy blond hair fell into his face, the early morning light shining through it from behind made it appear almost golden. The usual hard edges of his face of when he was awake were smoothed into something calmer in his sleep. Looking almost peaceful.

“Stop staring,” said the blond without opening his eyes after a few minutes.

“You look peaceful when you sleep. I like it,” said Neil and moved closer to Andrew, alternating his stare between Andrew’s now open eyes and lips, and kissed him back when the other closed the minute distance left between them. “But I’m glad you’re up, we need to pick up the cats soon,” he said after they broke apart.

A grumble was all he got in response.

“Come on, sunshine, the sun is shining.”

Andrew groaned once again. “That was horrible.”

Neil laughed. “How is your side?”

Andrew turned and lay onto his back, eyes squinting up at the ceiling against the morning light.

“It hurts like hell. But I’ve had worse.”

“You already said that last night,” said Neil. “And now I’m kinda worried it’s not sarcasm.”

Andrew made a noncommittal sound, then rolled out of bed and made his way towards the bathroom. Neil decided to put that thought away for later and turned his head towards Andrew.

“If you’re planning on taking a shower, we should wrap your bandages up first,” he said.

“With what?”

Without saying a word, Neil got out of bed and left the room leaving Andrew looking confused. When he returned a couple minutes later, he hoisted up the trash bag he got from one of the cleaners like a most precious possession earned in battle.

“With this!”

Andrew still in the middle of the room where Neil had left him, put his head into his hands for a few seconds before making his way to the bathroom where he began taking of his bandages.

“What are you doing?” asked Neil. “I just bought you something we can cover them up with.”

“I don’t fancy taking a shower with a trash bag wrapped around my waist,” answered Andrew. “Besides, the wound needs to be kept clean.”

“I’m pretty sure the recommended cleaning method isn’t with shower gel within the first 24 hours,” retorted Neil. “I can cover it with one of the huge Band Aids we got from CVS last night and put a piece of the trash bag on that with some Leuknoplast,” he offered then.

“Band Aids don’t fix bullet holes,” said Andrew just to keep arguing.

“Oh my God! Did you just quote Taylor Swift to me? I never took you for someone who listens to Taylor Swift.”

“I don’t really, but I’ve heard it so many times on the radio, I’ll remember it forever. And it’s a catchy song.”

“Oh my God,” said Neil once more, this time laughing adoringly.

“And how do _you_ know, it was a Taylor Swift quote?” grumbled Andrew.

“Trying to catch up on the pop culture I missed out on while I was on the run, remember?” Neil was still laughing, “Come on you swiftie, let’s get you cleaned up.”

*

About one and a half hours later, they were on the road again, with the fluffy monsters sleeping peacefully in their carriers in the backseat. They were finally quiet after meowing indignantly for minutes for being locked up again when they had been allowed to roam freely at the cat sitter place.

Neil was driving the Audi to let Andrew rest on the passenger seat as they made their way to Nashville. Because of their elongated stay in St. Louis, they were half a day behind the schedule they made up for themselves, so they had agreed to make as few pit stops as possible to try to make up for lost time. However, spending a night in Nashville was inevitable. Andrew wasn’t hurt badly, but he was still hurt, so he wouldn’t be able to spend close to 12 hours sitting in a car. Besides, they had wanted to avoid having to sit in a car for 12 hours when they began this trip, and that hadn’t changed.

Neil was glad. He had only met Andrew a little bit more than two days ago, but he meant what he had said after the Canes game: he was glad he did. Andrew was a man of ambiguity. He acted like he didn’t care but his actions showed the contrary. He alluded to the fact that he didn’t trust strangers, yet there he was resting with his eyes closed on the passenger seat next to Neil. The man he had only met less than three days earlier, the man Andrew new was the son of a mob boss, and the man who used knives like they were his body parts.

Then of course, there was the fact that Andrew had kissed him. And Neil let him. And kissed him back. And had been the one to initiate further kisses. This all came utterly unexpected to Neil. During his two and a half decades on Earth, this had never happened to him. He never wanted to kiss anyone, let alone take it even further. He decided he got a pass for the first 15 years of his life for not having wanted to do these things, but he didn’t have an explanation or excuse for the rest. But with Andrew, things were different and Neil couldn’t explain why. His silent freaking out behind the wheel of the car was more about having intimate thoughts towards another person than about that person being a guy. There was another thought that didn’t let him rest, though.

“Hey, Andrew,” he started. “Are you awake?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

Neil was hesitant. He didn’t know if Andrew would answer, or if Neil would like his answer if he did.

“When you… When you kissed me. The first time,” he spoke once he collected his thoughts. “You said you ‘won’t be like them’”. What were you talking about?” he asked his question finally.

Andrew stayed silent with his head turned towards the car door. Neil had started to accept the fact that Andrew won’t answer, when the man spoke up, still looking away from Neil.

“Like I told you. I grew up in foster homes,” he said in a calm tone. “None of them were what you would call happy childhood homes. They never really are. And then I was placed with a woman and his family who actually felt like a mother to me. But there’s always a catch. In this particular situation was my foster brother, who took the brotherly affection to a level no one should take. And he didn’t take no for an answer the first couple of times. Then he stopped asking altogether.”

Neil didn’t know what to say. Andrew had told him his childhood hadn’t been happy. Neil just hadn’t known how unhappy it actually was.

“That’s one hell of a sob story,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t call it an ideal childhood, no,” responded Andrew and Neil smiled to himself at the mirror of their discussion of Neil’s past. “But don’t worry, that person is dead,” Andrew continued. “My brother killed him when he caught him in the act once. It was ruled self-defense. I would call it justice if you ask me. Nevertheless, the end result is the same.”

“Looks like we have that in common. Having had our childhoods taken away from us.”

“That’s why I decided to never let this happen to anyone else if I have a say in it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Neil.

“I’m a child advocate lawyer,” answered Andrew.

“I– I never would have thought that that would be your profession,” said Neil, still waiting for the kaleidoscope of the picture of Andrew in his head to reorganize itself into something new. “But now that I know, it makes perfect sense. The prosecutors must despise you out of fear, don’t they?”

“I really don’t care what those people think.”

After a few moments of silence, Neil spoke up.

“I’m actually moving to Columbia because I accepted to coach hockey to children who live in group homes,” he began. “It doesn’t pay a lot, of course, but playing hockey was the one thing that brought me joy throughout my childhood, and I want to give back in a way. Providing those children with something that brings them joy, even if their everyday lives aren’t the happiest.”

Andrew didn’t respond, but Neil hadn’t expected he would. He noticed Andrew wasn’t really the person to speak unless he was asked. However, he was taken aback when he heard Andrew curse in German.

“Verdammt noch mal!”

“Was ist los?” Neil asked.

Andrew finally turned his head and looked at Neil with surprise in his eyes that quickly vanished. He then showed his phone screen to Neil which had ‘Annoying Relative #2 is calling’ on it, accompanied with a picture of a man a few years older than Andrew. The man had darker skin and brown hair, so Neil assumed he wasn’t the twin brother Andrew had talked about, but most likely the cousin living in Germany.

“Aren’t you going to pick that up?” asked Neil when Andrew just put his phone face down, instead of accepting the call.

“No,” answered Andrew and left it at that. “I didn’t know you spoke German. Anything else I should know about?” he said instead.

“I could tell you the same thing. But if you need to know, I also speak French and Spanish. Though, my Spanish is getting a little rusty. I haven’t used it properly in a while.”

“¿Quieres que hablemos en español?”

Now it was Neil’s turn to look at Andrew surprised.

“¿Tu hablas español también?”

“Sí. Ser un abogado defensor de niños en los Estados Unidos prácticamente requiere saber hablar español.”

Neil nodded in agreement.

“Et est-ce que tu parles français aussi, ou ce n’est pas l’un de tes talents?” he asked then.

Andrew looked at him unbothered and said “Show off.”

Neil laughed at that and turned his attention back to the road. They fell into comfortable silence and when Neil glanced at Andrew, he saw that the man was asleep with his mouth slightly parted, leaning against the car door.

*

When they reached Nashville and got the cats settled in the hotel room, Andrew walked up to Neil and kissed him on the mouth and backed him up until they reached the bed and Neil’s legs hit the edge, falling down onto his back on the mattress. Then Andrew climbed on top of him and continued to take him apart with his mouth and hands well into the night.

*

The next day Andrew wanted to drive, and Neil let him. His wound was healing nicely, so he wasn’t really bothered by it anymore. Neil stared out the window, watching the scenery and letting his mind wander. They were less than five hours from Columbia, nearing the end of their four-day-long road-trip and Neil didn’t know how they would go forward from this, when they wouldn’t be locked in a car. Sure, he had Andrew’s Instagram handle – and his name – and he had explicitly asked for cat updates, but that didn’t mean anything. If Andrew thought that whatever they had had only been a road-trip thing, he could and he would easily cut the ties.

Neil was surprised to find he didn’t want that. Never in his life did he feel attached to a person before, notwithstanding his mother. But that was attachment based mostly on survival. This wasn’t. Neil wasn’t used to this and didn’t really know how to behave. He felt he couldn’t just outright ask Andrew. And even if he could, he wasn’t ready for the level of vulnerability asking him would bring. He still had five hours with Andrew, and he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could. So he turned his head and looked at Andrew. His strong hands holding onto the steering wheel, guiding the several hundred horsepower beast towards their destination with ease. His hair falling slightly into his face as he focused on the endless asphalt ahead of him.

“Staring,” said Andrew after a few moments.

“Can you blame me?” asked Neil. “I love watching you drive. You look so confident behind the wheel.”

Andrew, without turning his head, reached over and pushed Neil’s face away. Neil chuckled but got the hint and continued looking out his window with his mouth closed but he smiled secretly to himself.

The drive to Columbia passed quickly, even with the frequent potty and food breaks for them and for the cats, and they were less than an hour from the city when Neil gathered the courage to speak up.

“You know I meant it,” he said. “I demand regular life updates of King. I grew really quite attached to that brooding cutie.” Neil felt the double entendre in his words, but wasn’t sure if Andrew had picked up on them. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Andrew to pick up on them at all. Maybe he did.

“Duly noted,” responded Andrew.

Neil didn’t know what to make of that answer, but he didn’t know how to go forward, so he stayed quiet, fidgeting nervously all the way to the rental place.

Andrew parked the car perfectly in the parking lot and they got to cleaning the interior with the rollers they had bought. The deposit was too much to lose because of a few strands of cat hair. Then they walked into the shop and officially dropped of the Audi.

When they got outside Neil turned to Andrew to say goodbye.

“I guess this is farewell then,” he said. “Tell King I’m going to miss her. Sir as well.”

“I thought you wanted regular updates. You are going to see her.”

“Well, yeah. But a picture is not the same as being able to bury my hands into her long fur,” Neil said and then he got an idea. “You know, it’s very beneficial for kittens to spend time with other cats. So that they can socialize and grow up healthier mentally.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. So you should come and visit me and Sir sometimes. For King’s sake.”

Andrew grabbed the back of Neil’s neck and brought their mouths together.

“You’re the most infuriating person I have ever had the misfortune to meet,” he said once he broke away. “I hate you.” Then kissed Neil once more, and Neil knew it wasn’t goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I previously wrote Andrew's profession as a child defense attorney. But doing further research I realised what I thought child defense attorney was is actually called child advocate lawyer. So yeah, sorry about that. Imma blame my complete lack of knowledge about the US juridical system. 
> 
> Translations:  
> “Verdammt noch mal!”  
> “Was ist los?” Neil asked.
> 
> "For fuck's sake"  
> "What's the matter?" Neil asked  
> -  
> “¿Quieres que hablemos en español?”  
> Now it was Neil’s turn to look at Andrew surprised.  
> “¿Tu hablas español también?”  
> “Sí. Ser un abogado defensor de niños en los Estados Unidos prácticamente requiere saber hablar español.”
> 
> "Do you want us to talk in Spanish?"  
> Now it was Neil’s turn to look at Andrew surprised.  
> "Do you speak Spanish too?"  
> "Yes. Being a child defense attorney in the USA more or less requires being able to speak Spanish."  
> -  
> “Et est-ce que tu parles français aussi, ou ce n’est pas l’un de tes talents?” he asked then.  
> "And do you speak French as well, or is that not one of your talents?" he asked then.
> 
> Disclamer: I don't speak German and barely a little Spanish so if what I wrote is incorrect, please tell me so that I can change it.
> 
> And thank you so much for reading! I originally wanted this to be around 7k but here we are more than 13k words later.  
> Comments? Please?

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Title from All Time Low
> 
> Also, guys. I'm not actually a hockey person, my best friend is, and everything I know of NHL is through him. So Blues and Canes fans, please don't come at me if I got things wrong. 
> 
> Also that video of Barclay is one of the cutest videos on the Internet, everyone should see it at least once in their lives.


End file.
